Angels Fear to Tread
by TheBleachDoctor
Summary: Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. In an engagement with the Borg, the Sovereign-class Lady Luck and her two Akira escorts are unceremoniously thrown into the Mass Effect Universe. To get home, the stranded Federation starships will have to make hard choices, and meddle in local events in ways that Starfleet would find... unseemly. Goodbye Prime Directive, hello Reapers!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: I know I shouldn't start ANOTHER crossover, but my muse is currently flying around the Trekkie fandom… so…. For those of you who follow me for my SW/Halo or Halo/ME Crossover, don't worry, "The Bow and the Gun" is next on my list._

_This story is based off of the Star Trek Online Era in the 25__th__ Century. There will be weapons and abilities from that era, so… yeah. Feel free to message me with arguments for or against Trek, but keep in mind that the Federation has a huge edge over the Council in terms of technology. _

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**Angels Fear to Tread**

**Chapter 1: The Final Frontier**

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"Dorsal shields down Captain!"

"Then get them back online! What's the status on our torpedo tubes?!"

"Saucer launch tube is still too damaged to fire, Captain! We only have the Engineering launch tube operational!"

"Then use that! Fire a full spread of Transphasic Torpedoes at the fifth Borg Cube!"

"Firing! Moderate damage to the Cube! Captain, they are returning fire!"

The Bridge of the _USS Lady Luck_ shook with the impact. Vulcan Captain T'palla held onto the sides of her command chair as the Borg cutting beam cut a swath of armor off the primary hull of her Sovereign-class starship. One of the Ensigns cried out that they were losing hull integrity, before his console exploded in a horrific corona of fire and electricity, killing the unfortunate Bridge officer almost instantly. The distant whines of phaser fire and the very near sounds of tearing metal echoed around the Bridge. Sweat dripped down T'palla's brow. Every time they engaged the Borg, she wondered whether that battle would be her last.

Given the fact that they were fighting five Borg Cubes with only themselves, two Akiras, and a Miranda as backup, this was looking like it might indeed be their last engagement.

The Captain of the Miranda-class _Shadowcruiser_ tried to say something to T'palla over a secure channel, but he didn't have the chance, as his ship exploded mid-sentence. A core breach ripped the diminutive frigate in two, sending Tritanium and Duranium fragments flying in all directions as the Antimatter in the core reacted violently with the entire ship. The secondary explosions from the Photon Torpedoes eliminated any remaining chunks of the once-proud starship.

With a barked order, T'palla's science officer, a Trill named Yapsy, began frantically executing one of their contingency plans. They were going to create a Tyken's Rift.

With the considerable technological devices _Voyager_ brought back from the Delta Quadrant, Federation starships had gained significant advances in weapons, engine, and other technology. With the war against the Klingons, Borg, and other factions, the Federation had been forced onto a full war-footing. Captains were allowed greater freedom in choosing what their ships were equipped with. T'palla liked having choices, so their hold was always stocked with spare parts to switch out. Currently, their Deflector Dish was modified so that it could create a Tyken's Rift. The temporary anomaly drained power from nearby starships. Using this, T'palla hoped she could create an opening in the Borg's shields. Enough to cripple them and get her ships out of there.

Well, technically, they were Vice Admiral Heartnet's ships… but the Admiral's flagship, the Odyssey-class _Judgment_ was the first to fall to the Borg's attacks. The burden of command fell to her.

And T'palla wasn't going to let the Borg kill her comrades.

"Lieutenant, are you ready?!" T'palla asked in a loud but steady voice as the sound of the ship pulling itself apart echoed around their ears.

"All systems ready, Captain!" Yapsy cried out as a console near her exploded, "Just give the word!"

"Fire!" rang the command.

The golden Deflector Dish of the Sovereign class began to shine brighter as the _Lady Luck_ swung around, trailing smoke and debris as flames spouted from various hull breaches. The atmospheric containment fields had long since failed, and blast doors were the only thing protecting the crew.

As the glowing of the dish reached its apex, a beam of energy lanced out from the Deflector into the middle of the Borg group. A massive rent in the fabric of subspace tore itself into being, sucking in the energy from the Borg Cubes.

"Borg ships are losing shield integrity fast!" Yapsy reported with glee.

"All ships, load Quantums!" T'palla ordered over secure frequencies. Once the Akira captains acknowledged, T'palla gave the command, "Fire!"

The torpedo launchers of the three Federation starships strobed, firing seemingly endless rows of blue fireballs. The Quantum torpedoes, 12 in total, streaked towards one of the Borg cubes. They passed through the malfunctioning shields and impacted with the force of several hundred nukes. The resulting explosion tore apart the Borg Cube by triggering core breaches in the multiple reactors inside the Cube. It came apart in a magnificent conflagration of sickly green.

The Bridge of the Lady Luck broke out in celebration. Seeing one of those damn monstrosities break apart was a great morale boost. However, there were still four left.

"Captain, the Borg are bombarding the Rift with Gravimetric Torpedoes! I think they're trying to disrupt it!" Yapsy yelled out frantically.

"Stop them!" T'palla ordered. If those Borg Cubes regained shield integrity, everything was over.

"Massive subspace anomaly detected! The Rift is expanding!" The tactical officer, Commander Anthi shouted, "We're losing power and being pulled into some spatial anomaly!"

The _Lady Luck_ shuddered as it was yanked towards the spatial anomaly, lights flickering as its power began to drain.

"Go to warp, now!" T'palla shouted. She may be a Vulcan, but this was getting too close for comfort.

"We can't!" the Engsign manning the Helm cried out, "We're going in!"

The roiling spatial anomaly enveloped the viewscreen, and T'palla knew no more.

**[Critical Systems Error! Extensive damage to all systems!]**

Lieutenant Viriska Wong felt like someone had dropped a runabout on her head, and then detonated the core. In layman's terms, everything hurt.

She cracked her eyes open. The flickering light of fire played off the cracked ceiling panels. She staggered to her feet, gaping at the damage to Main Engineering. Numerous coolant lines were leaking, there were a few breaches in the plasma lines, there were fractures all along the core housing, the bulkheads were buckling, most of the consoles were smashed, half the Engineering team was dead on the floor, and torn EPS conduits were poking out of the walls.

She was looking at a core breach in progress.

It would take a miracle worker to prevent certain disaster.

Luckily, Lieutenant Viriska Wong, Chief Engineer of the _Lady Luck_, was one such individual.

She limped her way over to one of the intact consoles, and slaved all Engineering functions to it. Things looked bad; half of the EPS conduits and main power conduits were damaged in some way, and the only thing holding the ship together was its structural integrity fields. She could fix that later, right now she needed to prevent a core breach. The antimatter containment fields were collapsing, with half of the field generators currently out of commission. Lieutenant Wong diverted power from life support to the containment fields. Life Support would be of no use to them if they were dead from a core breach anyways. She set about the task of stabilizing the reactor, all the while shunting power from system to system. She had no idea what the situation outside was, but she figured the Captain could handle it.

If the Captain was still alive. Viriska kept reporting her progress to the Bridge but nobody was responding. She really hoped everyone else was alright.

**[Location Unknown, **_**Lady Luck**_**, Bridge]**

"Medical Emergency, beam the Captain directly to Sick-bay!"

The Andorian Commander Anthi's cries went unheard. Either communications were down, or the entire medical team was dead. Anthi hoped it was the former.

Captain T'palla had been electrocuted when power surges ripped through the Bridge. Right after they entered the anomaly, fingers of energy snaked through the ship, knocking most of the crew unconscious. Yapsy was sprawled over her station, but would live and was in a stable condition.

T'palla was showing irregular brain activity, and her vitals were slowly dropping. She needed help now.

Barely exerting herself, Commander Anthi dragged the Captain over to the turbolift, leaving a single slightly wounded Ensign to manage the crippled Bridge.

The Turbolift scraped along warped shafts, screeching all the while. Eventually it reached the requested deck, and the doors jerked open. Anthi dragged her captain into the Sick-bay, and was met with a grim sight.

Everyone in the Sick-bay had been fried. Their charred and smoking corpses covering the floor. Lovely.

"Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram." Anthi coughed, shielding her nose from the fumes of burnt flesh.

A tall, polite woman with brown hair materialized, asking cheerfully, "Please state the nature of the medical… oh dear." She looked around at all the bodies, "I'm afraid I can't do much for these people."

"It's not them I want you to help," Anthi dumped her captain on one of the Bio-beds, "Captain T'palla has been injured, and her vitals are dropping."

The EMH grabbed a Medical Tricorder and ran it over T'palla, "She has severe brain trauma. Please let me carry out the necessary treatments."

Anthi nodded before swiftly leaving the room. She needed to find out what was going on, and where exactly the ship was. Her first stop would be Main Engineering.

Once there, she was startled by the sheer amount of damage the room, equipment, and crew had sustained. Many of the engineers had been slain by exploding consoles and conduits, apparently, judging from the state of the bodies. Lieutenant Viriska Wong, the Chief Engineer, had apparently managed to revive a few of her fellow crewmembers to assist in repairs.

"Ah! Commander!" she quickly acknowledged as she ripped a panel off the wall to get at its interior, "We're working miracles down here, but don't expect too much. I'm having to reroute power through most of the ship. What happened?"

"We're still not sure," Anthi replied, "Just concentrate on getting the shields and engines online. If the Borg is in a similar state to us, we might be able to run."

"Got it, Commander," Viriska swore as the Bio-Neural Gel pack she was about to replace incinerated itself in a power surge, "I'll worry about my job, you worry about yours. I can give you Impulse power in about twenty minutes. Shields in an hour. You'll have to wait at least a day on the Warp Engines, though. We really took a beating down here. Do you need weapons?"

Anthi shook her head, "We've still got minimal power to the Phaser Arrays. I'm not too worried about fighting right now. If we're forced to engage the Borg… then you might as well blow up the ship, for all the good it will do."

Viriska sighed, "Well, if we don't survive this, it was an honor serving with you."

"Likewise," Anthi nodded, before heading off to the Bridge.

The Ensign that Anthi had left on the Bridge had done a pretty decent job. He had managed to stabilize the condition of the other officers, and was trying to get some proper readings from their scanners. Nothing could be done about the state of the Bridge, though. They'd need to get a repair team up here later.

"Report, Ensign," Anthi barked as she exited the Turbolift.

"All sensors are operational, Commander," the Ensign stated, "but I'm having problems reinitializing Astrometrics. Good news; the Borg aren't anywhere near here, so we can take our sweet time with those repairs. Bad news; I'm not picking up any communications on subspace, and I can't detect any warp signatures at all."

A beep drew the Ensign's attention, "Alright, more good news, Astrometrics is online…. Odd news; we're located in the Alpha Quadrant, only about a day's travel from Earth at High Warp…"

"Which begs the question," Anthi paled, "Where is everyone?"

"Our escort is still with us, though," The Ensign put up the visual on the viewscreen. Two (mostly) spotless Akiras floated in the void, nacelles, deflectors, windows, and running lights shining brightly. The only thing to mar their hulls were a couple of scorch marks from Borg weaponry.

"Lucky bastards," the Ensign remarked, "We must look like shit."

At the moment, Anthi couldn't bring herself to reprimand the Ensign for his language.

Onboard the first Akira, the USS _Scimitar_, Captain Samuel Smith directed the chaos that was his Bridge crew. With their superior officer (and superior ship) out of commission for the time being, the burden of finding out what the hell went wrong fell to him and his fellow Captain on the other Akira. They had slowly put together what had happened. The Borg had created a tear in the walls between universes, and it had pulled the _Lady Luck_ and her escort in. The fate of the Borg cubes was unknown.

According to Astrometrics, the date was 2176. The Vulcans should have already met Humanity… but there were absolutely no warp signatures to speak of. Power signatures were detectable in the distance, but they were faint, and weak.

"Any luck with patching into the _Lady's_ computer systems?" Captain Samuel asked his Betazoid science officer, who shook her head, "No, Captain. The _Lady Luck_ is heavily damaged, and apparently their communications array suffered. I can't get a message through."

Samuel shook his head in disappointment, "Then get a shuttle over there. We need to get a line of communication up and running. How goes the repairs?"

His chief engineer, an amicable Bolian female, handed the Captain a PADD with a full report, "Repairs are coming along well," she smiled, "The shield emitters on the outer hull have been fully repaired, and we're halfway through replacing the disabled Neural-Gel packs."

Captain Samuel nodded, skimming the report. Everything looked to be in order. The only thing left to do was assist the _Lady Luck_.

**[Admiral, I regret to inform you that Vice-Admiral Heartnet's squadron was destroyed in an engagement with the Borg. There were no survivors.]**

**[Lady Luck, Main Engineering]**

"Put more power into the containment fields!" Lieutenant Wong barked, before once again attempting to shut down the Warp Core. Repairs would go along much faster if they didn't have to worry about a core breach, however, the damage was so extensive that any attempt to eject the core would result in a breach. The only option was to effect repairs, but the currently active state of the Core was making that very difficult. The computers were refusing to shut down the Core, so the entire crew was running around, trying to prevent the damn thing from exploding in their faces.

"Good news, our Antimatter generators are working just fine," crewman Basta called from across the room, "but we're leaking plasma from the nacelles, can we shut off the plasma flow from here?"

"I'm working on it!" Wong snapped, her fingers flying across the LCARS interface.

When they got the situation under control, they'd have to do some brainstorming. If they couldn't get the Warp Drive running again, they'd need to call in a support vessel from Starfleet Command.

**[Lady Luck, Sick Bay]**

The world was hazy, and thinking was hard.

Where was she? Who was she? Oh, right, she was T'palla, captain of the USS Lady Luck… where?... Sick-Bay, right.

How was she injured? The last she remembered was the ship falling into the rift, a flash of light, then Sick-Bay. Her head hurt quite a lot. The logical conclusion was that she had injured her head after that light… Strange, she didn't feel very logical. In fact, she felt slightly angry.

An unfamiliar brunette in Medical-blue leaned over her, smiling, "Ah, Captain, you're awake."

Who was… oh, the ship's Emergency Medical Hologram. Where was the regular doctor?

T'palla tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down by the EMH.

"You need rest, Captain," she informed the wounded Vulcan, "You have some brain damage, and I would prefer it if you relaxed for now while I run some tests."

She quirked an eyebrow, which was accompanied by the slightest feeling of… panic? "What sort of brain damage, doctor?"

"The part of your brain responsible for emotional control has been moderately damaged. I regret to inform you that I know no way of fixing it without further harming your brain." The EMH replied in a rather chipper tone.

T'palla began to feel the unfamiliar rush of panic. Quickly, before she could begin freaking out, the EMH gave her a quick dose of sedative.

As she sank back into the depths of unconsciousness, she thought, "How did it all go wrong, so fast?"

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_A/N: So I'm new to Trek fanfiction SOMEONE PLEASE BE MY BETA I'M LOST. So as always, read and review. If this story dissatisfies you in some way, remember, it won't get any better unless YOU TELL ME EXACTLY WHAT I'M DOING WRONG._


	2. Intermission One

_A/N: Sorry for the lack of any updates at all, dear readers. It's just that, in the past few months, my Muse has decided to pack up shop and leave. I still want to finish my other stories, but I lack the inspiration to write a story that will satisfy both you, my readers, and myself, the write. So I'm just getting this out there while my Muse is actually with me. Also, I'm going to college soon, so who knows what that will do to my writing schedule._

_Sorry for the short chapter, I know you were expecting more._

**Angels Fear to Tread**

**Intermission: Quest for Perfection**

Near the Galactic Core, a ring of debris from ancient starships floated lazily around a black hole, concealing the presence of a massive space station carved into a gigantic asteroid. It looked like someone had taken a cylindrical oversized Dreadnought and rammed it into a moon. The twenty ships arrayed in front of the station were no more aesthetically pleasing. They looked as if someone had taken similarly designed Cruisers and let cancerous growths sprout on the hull.

The alien Cruisers were in formation, facing a large, 20km radius circular spatial anomaly. The commander of the ships, the Collector General, scurried about in its central control room in the station, reading reports from each ship on the status of the anomaly. In the past few hours, it had gone from an insignificant blip on the sensors to the monstrosity it was now. Harbinger did not often feel apprehension, but it did at that very moment.

The Collector Cruisers were getting some rather garbled readings from within the anomaly, but if the results were anywhere close to the truth, four vessels of rather significant tonnage were about to emerge from the spatial rift.

Certainly enough, the anomaly disgorged four impossibly large cubical ships. Each side measuring approximately three kilometers, the four vessels had a volume of 28 cubic kilometers .

They were ugly things, green and black, geometric, with piping, tubing, and plating strewn across their hulls. They were an insult to perfection.

The Collector General had a moment to scoff at their design, before the sensor readings introduced him to an emotion it had not felt in a long time; fear. The energy signatures from the cubes were much higher than any vessel known to exist. They were undoubtedly a threat to the Cycle; A threat that must be neutralized.

Without words, the General quickly ordered its ships to open fire on the fourth cube, which was pitted with craters and obviously the most damaged of the group.

Brilliant yellow beams lanced out from the 20 Collector ships, their sickly golden light biting into the surface of the fourth cube. Huge chunks were sliced off from the gargantuan vessel, causing green secondary explosions to rock the cube. Within seconds, the entire cubical starship exploded in an antimatter explosion that the galaxy had never witnessed before in its entire existence. The shockwave battered the adjacent cube, and pushed aside all the ancient debris in the immediate area.

The General felt relief. These ships may have been powerful, but they had weak defenses. They hadn't even fired yet. Perhaps they were unarmed. In that case, this could be a boon to the cycle, instead of a threat. It ordered the fleet to disable the remaining three cubes.

20 golden lances leapt forth once more, only to hit a shimmering barrier in front of the cube. Despite a full minute's assault, the cube's shields held.

In retaliation, a single torpedo shot out from the cube; a green streak that slammed into the lead Collector Cruiser, reducing it into expanding sphere of debris in a magnificent explosion that disabled the mass effect fields of the entire fleet. While they struggled to get them back online, a chilling voice rumbled through the communication channels with the voice of thousands.

"We are the Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your vessels. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us."

Sickly green beams reached out, snaring the 19 helpless Cruisers as more focused beams began slicing them to bits, drawing the filleted sections into openings in the cube's surfaces.

"Resistance is futile."


End file.
